


Breaking free

by Shadowdianne



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 18:04:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16999974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowdianne/pseuds/Shadowdianne
Summary: Prompt: it would be really amazing if Regina was trapped or held hostage and Emma, her love, becomes her ultimate savior and rescues herAsked by anon





	Breaking free

**Author's Note:**

> Set in: Let’s go back to the Wish!Realm and imagine that Regina wasn’t attacked by Henry on sight but manacled and put into jail.

 

Despite knowing every floor of the castle like the palm of her hand Emma felt trepidation running through her as she turned yet another corner; the shadows the torches casted at both sides of the high hallways enough for her to bite her bottom lip nervously.

It’s been some time since she had done this; something, anything like this and as she touched the side of her hip in where her father’s… -no, not his, her- sword she could feel her clammy fingers almost slide off the hilt. She, however, kept going, jumping from shadow to shadow until she reached the northern tower, the one in where, below a never-ending-seeming flight of steps, the jails of the castle laid.

She hadn’t been there, the one that wasn’t from that world, but she could remember the memories the wish had brought with it of being younger, a teen, and accompanying her father down those steps, fearful and meek as he explained to her how the maze-like prison worked. She had nodded and pretended to be brave, but her father had laughed at that and told her that she didn’t need to worry, that she should never worry, about things like that.

“Your mother was against it.” He had said to her. “But I wanted to show it to you nevertheless. Just remember that you don’t need to feel unsafe, okay? Guards will always protect you.”

A part of her wanted to scoff at the guards but that kind of Emma was long gone, buried. And so she swallowed thickly and kept walking down the latest hallway she had walked into, the flames of the torches seeming to not light as much, shadows growing blonder beneath her booted feet.

She had already gotten quite the stares as she had exited her rooms, some handmaids, blinking as she adjusted the doublet over her shoulders, the riding pants and high-boots completing an outfit she knew the princess of this world -the one they knew- hardly ever used. And yet, as soon as she had reached the sancta-sanctorum of the chamber the clothes had appeared in front of her, colored momentarily in a smoke that could only be from her as the dirty white had crawled up the walls of the room, gleaming until it dissolved itself into the air.

It was nice to have some recollection of having magic, even if magic hadn’t been able to stop what had happened at the Queen’s castle.

Regina. She had been speechless when she had met her at the forest, the memories hers and not at the same time. But she had felt a pull almost instantly, the same kind of feeling she now remembered having felt when they had first met.

Cheeks tingling, she hadn’t been able to understand Regina’s tales of another world. One in where they shared a son, one in where they were…

The word “friends” appeared on her mind but it was her this time and not the brunette who scoffed. It was too simple of a word for her to frame everything on it like that.

In was precisely what scared her. How Emma, that other Emma, had felt the same like she had done. Despite the terror, despite the tales, the whispers, she had been fed her entire life. Even then that other Emma had almost wished to believe her. For a hot second.

Pressing her lips together, she remembered Regina’s words once again back at the castle, the mix of grief from her parent’s death and something else that she hadn’t truly recognized as what it was until Henry had entered into the room, all righteous fury and a bloodthirst shinning on his eyes the second he saw his grandparents’ bodies.

She hadn’t been able to intervene then, hadn’t been able to move a muscle as Regina eyed both the kid and her with something close to utter loss. And that had broken her. In a way that some of the fog that filled her brain had begun to lift, a sudden need to protect the older woman overcoming her. She had gasped and asked Henry to keep her alive, a strange look on the brunette’s gaze as soon as she had said those words, her voice suddenly sounding strange, as if pitch or tone weren’t the right ones, the ones that she was supposed to use.

It hadn’t been until they had been riding back to their own castle when a flash had entered her mind, rendering her breathless and almost making her fall from the horse as a new torrent of information entered her mind, erasing her riding lessons, eradicating every teaching on etiquette, on history, on manners.

Henry had asked if she was alright, if the Queen hadn’t put a spell on her. Emma had wobbled from side to side and said nothing, guilt eating her insides.

Because there was no spell but the one she had asked for herself. And the many, many times Regina had already saved her. No matter the cost, the outcome. And at the sight of the woman, dressed in her full Queen regalia, she felt again the same strange tug inside of her, her mind whispering already she was truly lost.

And so there she was, standing a few feet away from the two guards that looked over the door that led to those stairs, remembering all too well Regina’s last look as she was pushed away, not a single spec of magic coming from her.

She had seemed defeated, lost, and Emma had wanted to command them all to stop. She hadn’t been able to though, bits of the princess she had believed to be still lingering, hindering her thoughts. It had been short-lived but long enough for the guards to make Regina follow them, her slumped shoulders and a farewell look on her face telling enough.

Regina hadn’t realized Emma knew who she was; didn’t know that she had woken up. And, as such, she had probably thought that her plan had failed while Emma had tried to run after her the second she was able to move her legs, her lips opening, asking almost to be able to go towards her, hug her, in a way they rarely ever did. Not anymore, not when Emma had begun to stop farther and farther from Regina as possible. Afraid of herself, of her thoughts. Of those that now asked her why.

Squaring her shoulders, the blonde walked towards the guards who immediately mimicked her own posture, waiting for her to talk. It was strange, eerie; despite knowing these two guards by name Emma felt at loss as she looked at them, not sure anymore on how to speak to them. Regina would, of course she would.

That realization burnt; how alone, little, she felt. How doubtful.

Once upon a time she would already been down those stairs, screaming at the top of her lungs. Now, however, she felt meek and alone. A feeling she didn’t know how to handle, not when she hadn’t been aware that was what she was, how she truly felt.

Regina’s parting gaze had been more than enough though; a cry for a woman the brunette thought was no more. A woman Emma now realized she needed instead of the one she thought her parents wanted, that Hook wanted.

The thought made her wince.

And, perhaps because of that, because she always had loved to prove Regina wrong, she cleared her throat and spoke. Her tone was off once again, the way her mouth moved, and tongue worked, lacking the drawl from someone from those lands but the guards didn’t seem to notice it.

“I’m here to see the prisoner.”

The youngest one turned and pulled out several keys from his belt, opening the door with one firm push after battling with the rusty keys for a moment.

“Want us to follow you?”

His gruff voice reached Emma as she was already walking towards the stairs and she shook her head, feeling a sudden spark of magic igniting within her the moment the magical dampening was momentarily lifted as the door was open. Regina’s power tingled inside her, calling her and she didn’t waste any more precious seconds on the guards, beginning the long descent in what felt to be darker and darker corners.

_“Some savior I am.”_

The thought made her smile darkly as she kept the descent, close to the outer ring of the spiral staircase. The stone of the walls here was cold and moist and she could feel her feet sliding a few times as she walked, one hand still on the hilt of the sword, the other touching every so often the walls as she ducked her head whenever a new, dimmer, torch, came into her way.

She had been late. Again. It seemed that there was a pattern forming there; of her not being strong enough, brave enough, _savior_ enough. As much as it had pained her ego back at Camelot Regina had been the savior in a way she was seeing she wasn’t able to be anymore. That thought alone was enough for her to close her fist and hit the stone wall enough to feel the pain, rivulets of magic coming out of her for a moment, Regina’s magic diluted once again but still present, gripping hers.

Teeth clenched, she saw the light from the torches changing angle ever so slightly as she reached the end of the stairs, a long and lower hallway leading her to the guts of the castle. Shaking her head, she kept on walking.

She needed to save Regina, found a way to flee the castle and then…

Go back to Storybrooke.

The very thought made her shiver for a second, her reaction surprising her as she found herself thinking on it. The Queen had been right in one thing; her wish had been made because of something, because of that still present wish to escape and as much as she didn’t recognize herself anymore the idea of leaving everything behind was burning inside of her. More so with the possibility of finally being able to leave her savior days behind. She wasn’t a good hero after all. Never had been. And that was becoming painstakingly clear.

Nor the woman she had been trying to be either.

Or the fact that the idea of Storybrooke felt oppressing as well, like a cord slowly closing around her neck.

She was awoken from her musings by a sudden explosion of magic shaking her insides, the wave coming from even deeper the hallway in where several thick wooden doors awaited. She knew that more guards were supposed to guard the cells but there didn’t seem to be any. Running towards the dark corridor, she picked up the sword more strongly, almost unsheathing it.

The wave of magic subsided; she couldn’t feel any spell floating on the air -not that she could really tell but her memories as the Dark One seemed to be coming in handy- so she kept on walking, the echo of her footsteps the only thing that accompanied her as she left behind the stairs and the light the torches provided. Almost submerged in pitch darkness, she tried to peek through the bars embedded at the top of each door, creating small windows that didn’t really help her.

All of a sudden, she heard her name. Weak at first but gaining in strength the longest she walked.

_“Emma?”_

It was Regina’s voice, tired and lacking her usual bite. It didn’t quite come from the corridor but from inside, an imprint almost, written on the walls. Her magic hummed and reacted, throbbing inside of her as a wave of guilt washed over her. Running towards where the voice was telling her to go, she swallowed as she encountered the first of probably many intersections.

“Regina?”

Her voice came out like a whisper but, in the silence of the prison, it floated upwards, spilling through both new corridors. Ears perking up at the sound of two male voices coming from her left, she took a step backwards, letting the shadows cover her as she tried to think, heartbeat on her throat.

_“You don’t have time for this.”_ The mutter came from her own brain, from a corner of her mind in where a side of the Dark One still roamed, grey magic and angry eyes staring down at her. _“Fight, kill them.”_

“No.”

She said that out loud, a quieter whisper than the previous one, one barely strong enough to hit her teeth as she spoke.

Walking towards the corridor at her right she pushed herself up against the wall as much as possible as the guards appeared, turning towards the entrance of the stairs without sparing a single glance on her direction.

Magic tingling inside of her once again, she let her gut guide her, walking past the guards and into the left corridor.

Some of the doors there were open; waiting for new guests. Others, however, were closed and, on each new one she peeked, there was no sign of the brunette.

Not until she reached the middle of the corridor in where a lone, extinguished torch awaited her, smoke still raising from it. Licking her lips, she stared at the cell doors at both sides of the hallway, trying to discern if one was Regina’s.

She didn’t need to wait, as her magic lead her to the one closest to her, the old wood swollen and slightly cracked. And, when she peered through the window, the light of one single candle welcomed her.

Regina had been extricated from the gown she had worn, put in rags and manacled to the wall from where she sat, feet tucked under her body, eyes prying into the darkness. And despite that, breathtaking in a way Emma couldn’t truly begin to explain. How hadn’t Emma been able to remember her before was something the blonde was already punishing herself for.

The brunette’s magic was dimmed again, magic guards probably up in a way Emma didn’t even want to begin to fathom; clearing her throat, she glanced quickly towards the beginning of the hallway, exhaling as she saw no guard came in her way: Lying to the ones upstairs had been one thing. Helping the woman they all saw as the Evil Queen was another.

“Emma?”

Regina’s voice lacked real hope, but her eyes were looking directly at her, even if the lack of lighter from Emma’s side made it almost impossible for the brunette to truly see her. Nodding and then realizing the stupidity of it, Emma replied back; her voice dragging into the humid air.

“The one and only.”

She saw a small tremor running up Regina’s back, but the brunette shook herself from that, as if almost waiting for Emma to tell her she was there to make her pay.

Grunting, Emma began to fiddle with the knob on the door. Closed, obviously.

“Regina.” She repeated again, eliciting a small frown from the brunette. “I’m going to try to open the door. Okay? Stay back, in case I blow us up.”

She saw Regina’s change of posture almost instantly, the realization that it was Emma, not the princess the one speaking lighting the brunette’s face in a way that made her dizzy. Nodding again, this time to herself, the blonde closed her eyes and tried to go back to the sparse lessons Regina had taught her.

Back on their world she could have probably tried to force the door open like she had done many times before her first arrival to Storybrooke. Now, there, however, she let her magic run down her arm, feeding into the wooden door until she was able to manipulate each shard of it. Pulling towards her, she felt rather than heard the door giving away, the lock opening as she grasped the knob and tried to pry it open.

Running into the cell, she stopped into mid run as Regina breathed her name, a spark of purple gleaming into her eyes as she did so.

“Yes, me.” She said those words nervously, not really knowing what to do next. Opening her mouth again, she tried to ask Regina about the manacles, fearful to do the same trick once. However, instead than that, nothing came out from her, her chest empty as she stared at the brunette.

Kneeling, she sighed deeply.

“Thought I had forgotten about you?” Her voice held some of the cockiness she thought lost and she smiled at Regina let out a chuckle, one that quickly morphed into a fond hum. Cocking one brow, the brunette rose her arms, the chain clicking.

“Help me, I will be able to teleport us as soon as you do.”

Emma eyed the manacles, still unsure. “I’m… how I can open them?”

Regina snorted, a crocked smile appearing on her lips. “Only you’d come to rescue me without a plan.”

“Hey! At least I’m here.”

Even if the words had been said good-naturedly Regina’s face sobered up. “Yes, you are.” She replied and there was something else there, something close perhaps to the voice she had had the first time they had seen each other on this realm.

Wonder. Relief.

And something else that, as always, Regina hid away, lips upturned into a sad smile.

Grasping the manacles and the chain that kept Regina unable to move, Emma tried to transfer her magic again to them. This time, however, the metal didn’t budge.

“They are enchanted by the fairies.”

Regina’s words were said in the same tone she tended to use in those classes, the ones Emma wished to be now.

“Can you give me your power? If we combine…”

She didn’t have the time to explain herself further as Regina had already angled her hand as much as she was able to, interlacing her fingers with hers. Shivering at the touch, Emma almost moved her hand away. Almost. She didn’t, though, the touch calming, strong. Albeit dampened, the power was there, running towards Emma as she tried her best to redirect it. Trying not to blush despite the warmth that was beginning to travel down her neck, the blonde focused on the metal.

_“How I couldn’t remember you?”_

It didn’t work quite as right than she had been able to with the door; a chunk of the wall disintegrating under their eyes, but the manacles fell to the floor with a heavy thud Emma hoped that it didn’t reach the guards.

“I’m sorry.” She said when they didn’t hear any screams or yelps. “For everything, for not having been able to…”

“Emma.” Regina’s face was pained but she schooled her features as quickly as possible. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

And it wasn’t.

It wasn’t okay that she had made the wish, that she had wished to be anywhere but Storybrooke, away from a title that made her feel in a box, trying to step into another that tightened around her neck and chest, not letting her breathe. It wasn’t right or fair that she hadn’t recognized Regina before, that she had made her go back to a magic Emma knew Regina despised.

“Emma.” Regina’s voice was low, softer now and the blonde blinked a few times as Regina’s power began to return to her, sparks on her fingers that illuminated them both from below. “As much as it’s great having you back I would prefer to have this conversation…”

“In Storybrooke?”

Regina sighed and for a second, she seemed a moment away from pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Yes. So I can tell your parents to stop worrying.”

She didn’t mention Hook, nor Emma truly thought of him until a second too late but neither of them said anything about it. Clasping their hands together, Regina let her magic envelop both, purple quickly clouding their vision.

In a flash, they were gone; their feet touching grass next time Emma opened her eyes, lost for a second. Turning as she found herself alone, she saw Regina changed already back to the clothes she had worn first time she had seen her, something that could only be a bean between her fingers.

Nervous at the idea of going to Storybrooke just yet, she took a step forward, her boots clunky suddenly as she walked through dew covered grass.

“Why did you do that? Going full Queen mode?”

The question escaped her before she realized it and she almost flinched when Regina sighed, tucking the bean away once again.

For a moment too long Regina didn’t seem like she was going to answer her, her eyes dark and focused on something Emma wasn’t entirely sure what it was. At the end, with a small smile, one that didn’t feel real, the brunette shrugged.

“Heroes need a villain. I thought…”

“That by doing that it would trigger me.”

Regina didn’t answer but she pressed her lips together, her eyes focusing on Emma again as the woman gaped.

“We are intertwined together.” Regina’s voice was soft now, weak in a way and Emma saw how she turned her hands into fists, a spiral of magic crawling up her forearms as she did so. “But it didn’t work.”

Emma was already shaking her head at that, another step gained between them as she pointed at herself, a shadow of dirty white following her every movement.

“And what I am if it didn’t work?”

That made Regina’s smile return once again but this time it was darker, full of something Emma couldn’t quite place.

“Don’t make me answer that.”

It was as close to a plea as Regina would ever go and it still hurt. Because Emma knew what laid beneath those words, beneath what they said, what they implied.

“I remembered you.” She saw instead, now away from the castle and the guards some of her confidence returning. “I did. When we were going back to the castle. That was you.”

“Was it?”

And Emma wanted to scream that it was. That that, everything, had been Regina. She, instead, closed her eyes and pressed her fingers against the hilt of the sword, the cold metal grounding her.

“You are far better hero than I am.” She said after a few moments, a dark chuckle raising from inside her. “Does that make me the villain?”

The change on Regina’s demeanor was instant; anger flashing on her face, she took the final step between Emma and herself, eyes glowing.

“You are not a villain.”

Emma let out a rough chuckle at that, the stupid idea of black and white clawing at her insides just like it had done once, during her first year in Storybrooke, after the first curse had been broken.

“Then neither are you.”

Regina growled at that before turning away, picking the bean back from whatever pocket she hid them and dropping into the ground, a swirling vortex appearing almost immediately.

“You are not a bad savior, Emma.” Her words were slightly muffled, as if she was trying to choke them down, but the blonde still heard it. Shaking her head, she didn’t answer to that; unsure of what she would said if she began to talk.

Because, if she answered that she would scream that she wasn’t. That she didn’t want to, that she didn’t feel like that. That she had realized that she had been murdering herself while trying to fit in a space that wasn’t for her and that was, on itself, destroying her. Bit by bit, page by page.

Because if she answered she would say that she wanted to kiss Regina, keep her close.

“Let’s go?” She asked instead, and Regina halted, seeming to be about to say something else.

“Yes.” She finally said, and Emma reached out for her with one hand, tasting ozone on the back of her tongue, the scent filling her nostrils as she breath.

It was now or ever, her mind whispered. Back to Storybrooke and she would lack of a freedom she herself had chosen to give.

“Regina?” The portal, however, called them both in and, without a second thought, she grasped Regina’s hand.

Any second now.

Feeling hot and yet trembling, the younger woman eyed Regina, trying to see, to know, if the brunette was looking at her. Regina’s brown eyes were not on her though; pupils trained into the vortex, the gaping hole beginning to close.

“Emma, jump!”

She felt the floor giving under her, Regina’s own momentum pushing her inside just as she began to open her mouth; the word “love” getting lost on each new fold the realm created around them luring them in back to their own.

But, for a second, a moment, Emma could swear she felt one single squeeze on her hand, a last call.

And then, they were gone.


End file.
